Skinny Love
by mister-eva
Summary: A short oneshot about a boy and a girl who were in love with each other, never told but always showed. AMUTO.


**Skinny Love;**_**  
><strong>_**1. When two people love each other, but are too shy to admit it, although they still show it.**

I never told her.

We had been friends – I can't say for sure that we were even that – for so many years, and that was all we ever were. I was madly in love with her, I always was, and I never stopped loving her. From the minute I saw her, something inside me was like a magnet and pulled me to her. I could never stay away for too long.

I had no idea what made me so attracted to her. Maybe it was her odd, bright pink hair. Maybe it was her stubbornness. Maybe it was those big, beautiful, round yellow eyes of hers. Maybe it was the way her face looked like a tomato when she blushed. Maybe it was her adorable smile. Maybe it was how pure and innocent her heart was.

I teased her, and said things that sometimes weren't true, said things that I wanted to happen. She just blushed a deep shade of red, and called me a pervert countless times. Often, I hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. I could feel her heart frantically beating against her chest when I got close to her and sometimes could hear it. I was just lucky she could never hear my heart do the same.

_I could've told her._

I knew that somewhere deep inside her, she loved me too, despite how cocky that sounds. There were so many opportunities, so many chances when I could have just told her I loved her, and she might have said she loved me back. Then, we would've lived happily ever after like a perfect story.

_I would've told her._

I had too many _what if's _stopping me. I was so desperate to hear her tell me she did, and I needed to tell her that I loved her. But, every time I tried to, I couldn't. I was afraid of what would happen if I did tell her; what if my cocky thoughts were wrong? What if she was actually in love with the kiddy king? What if she was just playing me? But with good intentions like hers, she couldn't have been like that. It just wasn't in her nature to purposely break someone's heart.

_I should've told her._

I don't remember what time it was, what day it was, or what the hell had even happened.  
>Everything was so bright; the white lights blinded me, everything was moving so quickly and I could barely make out what people were saying to me. I could hear my name being repeated over and over again, and that was about it. I tried to say her name, but it was just a bunch of useless blabber.<p>

The people lifted me onto – I think it was – a bed, and crowded around me like flies. My eyes began to readjust to my surroundings; nurses, doctors, the white walls, the aching pain in my side and the surgery tools. Where was she?

I pushed through all the people, freeing myself from their hold. They tried to stop me, but I flung them aside. I needed to find her.

Then, I found her.

Through a small window of a room, I could see doctors and nurses crowding around a bed soaked in dark, red blood. It could've been just some person who got into an accident, and how I wish it was. A doctor moved out of the way, and showed me what I almost wish I didn't see. It was just a glimpse, but that was all I needed.

There was the briefest flash of her unmistakable pink hair.

Before I could rush in to see her, the doctors that were attending me caught up to me. Without hesitation, they stuck the needle into my neck and pushed in the liquid that knocked me out cold within seconds. The last thought I had, was the sight of her in that bloodstained bed.

I don't know how long I was unconscious.

I pulled the needles out of my arm and went to find her room. My legs felt like jelly and my head was throbbing painfully, but nothing could stop me. I had to see her.

It was so much different when I found her the second time.

The room was silent, and there was only her in the room. The sheets were white, changed from before. She lay there, unmoving, just perfectly still. I slowly made my way over to her and knelt beside her bed. I held her hand and flinched at how cold she was.

She didn't respond when I called her name.

I said her name again.

She didn't move.  
>She didn't flinch, she didn't open her eyes, she didn't breathe.<p>

I begged her, begging her to say anything, call me a pervert, slap me, give me the cold shoulder.  
>But she didn't do any of those things.<p>

She didn't wake up.

I don't know how long I had been there, holding her hand, crying, begging her to wake up.  
>Maybe minutes, hours, days.<br>Nothing changed.

For so many years, I had been madly in love with her, always was and never stopped.

I never told her.


End file.
